


Side Profile

by Tashilover



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Crack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-31 02:45:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6452368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tashilover/pseuds/Tashilover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone has a doppelgänger. Matt, the lowly Radar Technician, was going to learn this very soon.</p><p> </p><p>Based off of the Undercover Boss SNL skit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of this SNL skit: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=FaOSCASqLsE

Matt was used to being alone. It's not as if he enjoyed it, he'll have conversations with people if they were willing, but he knew he was one awkward son of a bitch. Social cues were not his strong suit, he got nervous when people demanded too much of him, and if his anxiety got too bad, he got nosebleeds. Nobody wanted to hang out with an awkward man in his thirties who bled like the air was constantly too thin.

But he did good work. When he wasn't being yelled at, he could fix anything thrown his way. Be it something as small as a pocket watch or as complicated as a plasma rifle. His official title was 'radar technician' but he could do so much more than that.

On base there were more technicians and maintenance crew than there were stormtroopers and commanders combined. To keep a place like this running, Matt and his fellow crew members were technically on-call 24/7. If something needed fixing, it needed fixing now. Still, he found time for other things.

Matt held out the data pad. "I fixed it."

Cinnamon was a short, young woman with thin eyes, overly large front teeth and an uneven bowl haircut. Others have made fun of her appearance behind her back, but Matt thought she looked absolutely _adorable_. Cinnamon squealed and took the data pad from his hands. "Oh my goodness! Thank you, Matt! Oh, I thought I was going have to request a new one, and you KNOW how hard it is to request new items for the lower level crew memebers! Thank you, you saved me so much trouble!"

Matt shrugged, acting as if it was no big deal, except his shy grin and gentle blush gave him away. It wasn't often he was praised for his work, let alone by a woman he admired. His confidence soared and thought to himself, this was it. This was the perfect time to ask her out on a date. Maybe a cup of coffee in the cafeteria (it was not as if they could go out and see a holo-film) or a late dinner. If she said no, well, that was okay, at least he tried. "Cinnamon," he started. She was still smiling at him, her full attention on him. "I was wondering if you-"

Cinnamon's eyes suddenly shifted to behind Matt and her smile _died_. Confused, Matt turned around and gave off a little squawk of surprise and stepped back, bowing his head. "Sir!"

General Hux was standing right there, standing over the both of them, sneering like he had just walked in on them naked. At first he said nothing, staring straight at Matt, scrutinizing him. Though they were nearly the same height, Matt fell small and insignificant. He couldn't imagine how Cinnamon felt. She was only 5'4.

"You," the General suddenly snapped at Cinnamon. "Fuck off."

Oh lord. Cinnamon gave a small nod of her head. " _Thank you for fixing my data pad, Matt_ ," she said very quietly before she scurried off.

The hallway was not completely deserted. Other troopers and crewmen walked past them, giving them a wide berth. A few tossed sypathetic looks toward Matt, while others snickered behind their hands.

Finally, the General spoke. "What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?"

"I..." Matt's heart was already beating quite fast and Hux's tone made it race. Was it wrong for Matt to persue a relationship with another crewmember? There were over ten thousand people working here. Surely no one, let alone _General Hux,_ would give two shits about it. "I'm not sure I understand, sir."

"Is this some sort of game to you?" General Hux continued. He stepped closer manacingly and Matt internally screamed. "I got the Republic and Snoke breathing down my goddamn neck and you're here, playing snookie!"

Oh lord, Matt was right, relationships between crewmembers were forbidden!

"You look ridiculous," Hux said. He eyed Matt's hair, his glasses, his clothes. "What are you suppose to be? A radar technician?"

Matt swallowed. "I-I-I am a radar technician... sir."

" _What_?"

Matt scrambled for his badge on his chest and held it up for Hux to see.

Something in Hux's expression broke, and he jerked like Matt had slapped him instead. He snatched Matt's badge right out of his hand, took a step back and pulled out his own data pad from his coat. Unlike the big, clunky one Matt had fixed for Cinnamon, Hux's data pad was small, thin, and were never given to lower crew members. Hux scanned the badge against the pad and Matt's employee profile showed up on screen.

Matt waited anxiously as Hux scrolled down, passing Matt's terrible profile picture (his glasses reflected the flashing light, so you couldn't even see his eyes) and read his employement information. Worse, Matt could feel his right nostril clogging up and knew it was going to start bleeding soon.

Finally, Hux turned the pad off. He frowned. "Apologies," he said, shoving Matt's badge back to him. "I... uh... I must have mistaken you for someone else."

There was someone _else_ on base who had hair like Matt? That poor person. "Who, sir?"

"Never you mind," Hux snapped at him. "You're dismissed."

Clutching his badge to his chest, Matt scurried away as fast as he could. Warm blood trickled down his upper lip and he reached up with a shaking hand to stem it. He knew without turning around, Hux watched him leave.


	2. Chapter 2

It took an annoyingly long time for the nose bleed to stop. Matt ended up hiding in one of the bathroom stalls by standard maintenance, sitting on top of a closed toilet lid, stuffing toilet paper up his nostril. He has never felt so humiliated in his life. This was even worse than that time he woke up during his wisdom tooth extraction and vomited all over the orthodontist.

It was nearly an hour later when Matt finally coaxed himself to get out of the stall and wash his face. Once he washed away the blood, sweat, and his humiliation, he noticed his datapad had been silently notifiying him. He thumbed it on and grimaced. While he was hiding, he missed seven calls for repairs.

There were other messages, telling him not to bother with certain jobs because they called upon someone else to do it for him. Great, perfect. Matt was pretty sure telling his superiors that he was having a panic attack in the bathrooms was a good enough reason to miss work. Matt turned off his pad and groaned out loud.

What the fuck was that all about?

General Hux had mistaken him, _him_ , for someone else. And not just anyone else, someone important enough for the all powerful General to drop all formalities and presence of control. Hux looked like he wanted to wring Matt's throat.

His datapad vibrated with another message. Matt considered ignoring it- he was already in a lot of trouble, so what's one more?- but decided not to push his luck. He turned on the screen and his eyebrows shot up in surprise.

_Want to have a coffee? - Cinnamon._

 

 

 

 

 

 

Twenty minutes later Matt was sitting in the cafeteria, holding a warm cup of coffee in his hands. His finger tapped anxiously against the lip of the cup. He knew this technically wasn't a date, but it wasn't often women asked him out for coffee. He readjusted his clothing for the tenth time, checking for any blood spots he might've missed. He also kept touching his upper lip, making sure he wasn't about to bleed right here right now.

He straightened when he saw Cinnamon enter the cafeteria, giving her wave. She spotted him and smiled.

Suddenly it felt like a weight had lifted from Matt's back. Not only did she _sought_ him out, she was glad to see him.

He watched her as she made her way towards him. She passed one worker who had just stepped out of the line with a tray full of food. She didn't even hesitate, she snatched his little cupcake off his tray and kept walking. The worker didn't even notice.

"Here," she said once she got to Matt's table. She sat down and placed the little pink frosted cupcake in front of him. "I got you a treat."

"Oh my god!" Matt snorted, doubling over and giggling. "I can't believe you did that."

"I do it all the time. I don't like waiting in line just for a sugary treat."

Matt kept grinning as he peeled off the paper covering of the cupcake. He took a small bite (he really wanted to shove the whole thing in his mouth) and nodded in appreciation. "Mmm... this is really good. Thank you."

Off in the cafeteria somewhere, a man yelled, " _Oi! Who took my cupcake_?!"

Both Matt and Cinnamon doubled over, giggling madly, motioning to each other to keep their voices down.

"Oh goodness, Matt," Cinnamon breathed. "I'm so glad to see you're okay. What the hell was that about with General Hux?"

"I don't know," Matt said. "He... he thought I was someone else."

"Someone else? Who?"

"That's what I asked. He told me to mind my own business. He had to look up my employee file to convince him."

"Huh. Do you have any siblings?"

"I have a half-sister, but she looks nothing like me. Her skin and hair is darker, and she lives in the Arlack system with her wife."

"Hmmm... then I guess what they say is true: everyone has a twin out there, somewhere."

And Matt's twin was here, on base? The odds were so astronomical, he could barely believe it. He decided not to worry about it. as long as he didn't cross paths with General Hux, then everything should be okay.

A sudden loud beeping noise startled Matt, making him drop the rest of his cupcake onto the floor. He cursed, quickly wiping away the pink frosting from his fingers to his shirt. He scrambled for his data pad. That loud noise was a notification for extremely important repairs. If he ignored that one like he'd done with the others, it was a guarantee dismissal.

"What is it?" Cinnamon asked. Her pad didn't sound off despite they worked in the same sector.

Matt tapped the notification. He paled. "I... uh... I've been summoned by General Hux personally to one of the control rooms on the upper floor."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Non-consensual Force mind-scan

Matt was glad to say his nose didn't bleed in front of Cinnamon. But once he was out in the hall, making his way to the upper levels, it was like a dam had broke and blood ran down his chin freely. He managed to grab several napkins from the cafeteria and shoved them against his nose as he walked. He must've looked like an idiot, hunched over, walking switfly as the crumpled napkins slowly turned scarlet.

By the time he got to the upper levels, he used seven of the ten napkins he grabbed. He sniffled and found his nose disgustinly dry and itchy. But not bleeding. He'd rather deal with a dry nose than a bleeding one. He disposed of his soiled napkins into a nearby trash droid and kept walking.

This was the first time he's ever been on the upper levels. Due to security reasons, any repairs needed here were done by droids or stormtroopers. As Matt kept walking to his destination, he passed important-looking women and men in black uniforms and brightly shined black boots. He kept expecting one of them to stop him and demand what he's doing here. No one did. By the time Matt got to the assigned room, his heart calmed a little. Maybe the repairs was General Hux's way of wanting to apologize. Maybe all it really was were repairs and nothing more. Matt pressed his badge against the sealed door and waited to be allowed inside.

The doors slid opened a second later and Matt stepped inside. "Hello?"

The room was stupidly dark. He knew the First Order liked their black clothing in respects to Darth Vader, but leaving the lights out was beyond rediculous. He could barely see General Hux, sitting down by a console, reading something from a datapad. The door slid shut behind Matt, turning the room even darker, and only then Hux looked up and said, "Good, you're here. I got a job for you."

No, _I'm sorry I yelled at you earlier._ No, _Thank you for coming_. Just, _here's my shit and fix it_. Matt internally groaned. He might as well get this over with. Hux motioned Matt to follow him to the other side of the room, which was a little brighter but no less steeped in unecessary darkness.

"This needs fixing," Hux said, waving towards a console.

Matt took a good look at it. He frowned. "...Really?"

He'd been expecting a minor mechanical error, an electornical error, or perhaps, as his title suggested, something involving radars. The console Hux waved to was _destroyed_. It looked like it went up against a bantha and lost, and then the bantha decided to kick it viciously for a few hours. Entire sections of the console were ripped apart, broken wires and dials were hanging out from giant holes, and the screens were melted. _Melted_.

Hux raised an eyebrow. "Yes, really."

"O-oh..."

So much for thinking this was a joke. Grimacing, Matt walked to the console and pulled out his personal flashlight, taking a closer look at the damage. He was right about the melted parts. It looked like something of great instense heat was pressed against the console over and over. The more Matt looked, the less he saw evidence of a fire. "May I ask how the console got to be like this?"

Hux grunted. "Someone took their anger out on it."

"This is the result of someone having a _temper tantrum?_ What sort of _idiot_ would do such a thing?"

"I would," said a voice from the darkness.

Matt startled and twirled around, dropping his flashlight. Standing in the far corner, practically one with the blackness, was Kylo Ren.

General Hux's face was known by everyone on base. The Order made sure everyone knew who their superiors were, even if they were never to cross paths. But Kylo Ren was something else. He was treated almost like a ghost story in the lower levels, only heard of from word of mouth. Up until now, if someone had asked Matt who Kylo Ren was, Matt would have answered, "He's no one, a myth."

Kylo Ren stepped away from his spot in the corner, coming closer. Though he was good twenty feet away from Matt, Matt took a step back in response. "Can you fix it?"

Hearing a voice come through that expressionless mask sent shivers down Matt's spine. Even the most non-humanoid alien species had facial expressions in some form. This was beyond alien. Matt bent down and scooped up his flashlight. He took a quiet breath and said, "I... let me see what I can do..."

He turned back around to the console. Even while facing the other direction, he could feel Kylo Ren's stare on his back.

The first thing Matt did was unscrew the front panle of the console and taking it off. Now that it was gone, he was glad to see the majority of wires were left untouched by the melting damage. Many parts still needed replacement, but he could work with what he got here. Matt took note of any electrical dangers before shoving his hands in. He started grabbing full banks of data boards, checking them for damage, then rerouting their power supply.

He tuned out the world behind him, ignored the deep ugly presence of Hux and Kylo Ren, and concentrated at the task at hand. This was his element, this was what he was good at. Once he rerouted the majority of the power, he straightened up from the console, held out his hand to Hux and said, "May I see your data pad?"

Ten minutes ago Matt would've never had the confidence to ask the General for such a thing. His mind was still focus on the task at hand, running numbers through his head, calculating and analyzing. Anxiety had no place here at the moment.

Hux raised an eyebrow at such a request but said nothing. He pulled out his fancy data pad from his pocket and handed it over. Matt hooked the datapad to one of the wires, and once the screen lit on with a notification, Matt smiled in triumph. He handed the pad back to Hux. "It's not perfect, but with your data pad, you should be able to control the console. This is only a temporary solution though. This console should be enitrely replaced by the end of next week otherwise it could be a fire hazard."

Hux stared at the data pad, considering it. "Very interesting," he said.

Matt beamed. It wasn't really praise, nor was it a thank-you. Matt took what he could.

With a disinterested hum, Hux unhooked the wire from his pad and tossed it back into the mess of the console. "Alright," he said, turning to Kylo Ren. "He's all yours."

Matt jerked. "Wha-?"

He turned just in time to see the chair Hux was sitting in earlier suddenly rush forward like it was a droid, the wheels squealing across the floor, slamming into the back of Matt's knees, forcing him into the chair with an undiginified fwump. The chair changed direction, facing Kylo Ren who was suddenly only a mere foot away from Matt.

"Don't scream," he said, holding his hand out towards Matt's head. "I hate it when they scream."

Though Kylo Ren's hand was a good five inches from Matt's head, Matt could feel the pads of his gloved fingers on his skin. It felt like they were gently touching him, tapping quietly against his skull. Suddenly they dug in deep, and a shot of horrific pain had Matt arching his back off the chair as a quiet scream escaped out of his mouth.

The fingers continued deeper, scrapping against his brain, touching every part of him from inside. Matt managed to hear himself whimper, "Please..." when suddenly, everything vanished. The fingers, the pain, all of it disappeared like they were never there to begin with. Matt curled in on himself, nearly heaving with every ragged breath he took.

"He is Force sensitive," Kylo Ren said. "But just barely."

"Does that make him dangerous?" Hux asked.

"No. I doubt he has the power to even move a coin."

"What..." Matt struggled to lift his head up. His fat glasses slid down his nose, threatening to fall off. "What did you do to me?"

"I looked into your mind and touched your very core."

Matt had no idea what that meant. He felt empty. That tiny portion of cupcake he ate earlier sat heavily at the pit of his stomach like a piece of coal. Sweat poured down his face, his back, but he was cold. His whole body shook uncontrollably. "Why...?"

He hated the fact he sounded so whiny. He didn't understand. He did the job he was asked to do, why was he being punished?

Kylo Ren cocked his head. "Do you not understand?"

"Understand _what_?"

Kylo Ren bent down so he was eye level with Matt. Very deliberately he raised his hands to his helmet and released the clips.

Fear engulphed Matt. Oh god, he didn't want this. He didn't want to see what laid beneath that mask, what horrific deformity he was about to come face to face with. He readied himself for a scream. Kylo Ren removed his helmet and staring right at Matt was-

Him.

"Oh..." Matt said quietly. Then he fainted.


	4. Chapter 4

In his dreams, Matt was sitting at a decorative table with Cinnamon.

They were outside, sitting in the middle of an open green field as the wind gently blew around them. The sun was shining brightly, and there were no clouds to be seen, giving them a perfect endless blue view of the world. Cinnamon herself was dressed elegantly in a white dress with lace gloves and a large sun hat.

Matt wore his technician uniform.

He didn't seem to notice this or care. He was too busy focusing on the contents of the table. In front of him was a delicate tea cup filled with an amber-colored liquid. Sitting in between Matt and Cinnamon were plates upon plates of pasteries and cookies and other delicious-looking treats. Smiling, Matt reached out and plucked a tiny chocolate cake from one plate. He ate it and was disappointed he could not taste it.

Cinnamon wasn't eating. She was too busy grabbing handfuls of sweets and stuffing them into her little drawstring purse of hers. Though she was getting caramel and sugar slathered all over her gloves, Matt simply laughed and continued watching her, taking tiny sips of his flavorless tea every few seconds.

Matt reached out for another sweet, a pretty pink macaroon, and when he pulled back, Cinnamon was gone.

She was nowhere to be found. Matt twisted around, looking for her. There was no way she could have gotten up and disappeared like that so quickly. She wasn't under the table, she wasn't in the far distance. She was just... gone.

Matt didn't get up to look for her. Instead, he continued to pile the flavorless treats onto his plate and eating with the same quiet movements as before. From high above, the clouds finally moved in, blocking the sunlight, pushing the entire green field into shadow.

Matt continued eating. He didn't move, didn't blink, didn't care.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Matt woke up with a slight jerk, his leg kicking out abruptly. For a brief second he thought he was falling. He threw out a hand to catch himself, a half-yell already tumbling out of his lips. When he realized he was on a bed, he went limp and groaned. "Oh," he said, sitting up groggily. He reached up and pulled off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Oh... I hate that..."

"Hate what?"

Matt gave out a little scream, then slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle it. He slipped back on his glasses.

Kylo Ren was in the room with him. He was leaning against a desk, going through something on a datapad. He wasn't wearing his helmet.

"Oh lord," Matt said, looking around. "Where am I...?"

He wasn't in the medical wing. This was a private room. A very nice private room. He was laying on a gigantic bed with the softest blankets and pillows he's ever felt. The room itself was large and stupidly spacious, but also strangely bare. There were no photos on the wall, no paintings, not even a holo-screen. Matt lived with four other men, and their rooms were filled to the brim with personalized items. As lovely as it was to have such space, the emptiness was overwhelming. "Is this yours...?"

"It is," said Kylo Ren. "Does that upset you?"

"I'm more confused than upset. Why am I here?"

"I think the answer is fairly obvious."

"Not to me."

"...look at me when I speak to you."

Matt had been purposely avoiding eye contact, keeping his head down. He didn't want to look, not again.

" _Look at me_ ," Kylo Ren said again, this time with a small hint of a threat in his voice.

Matt was shaking. Slowly, he raised his head.

There was no denying it, they looked like each other. There were a few obvious differences, of course, but that was Matt's face. Same eyes, same nose, same stupid eyebrows. They even had the same moles in the same places.

Matt couldn't look for long. He averted his gaze after a few seconds.

Kylo Ren hummed. "I've read your file. There's no father listed in your birth records."

"That's because my mother didn't want to get him in trouble," Matt said. "He was her professor. She was nineteen, he was thirty-four."

"You knew him?"

"Barely. He died when I was five."

Something was very wrong. There was no hesitation in his answers, no pause, no second-thoughts. Kylo Ren asked and Matt answered like it was the most natural thing in the world. Matt raised his head, his suspicions confirmed before he even asked. "Did you do something to me?"

"I took away some of your natural inhibitors. Your extreme anxiety, your hesitation. I mostly did it because I was tired of cleaning after your nose bleeds."

"You... _manipulated_ my _emotions_?"

"Do you feel more confident?"

"No!"

"And yet you yell. Tell me, how do you know your mother is your mother, or that your father was your father?"

"What?"

"Do you believe you were adopted?"

"Why does that-"

"Do you wish for me to spell it out for you? We have the same face, _Matt_. And the mystery I am trying to figure out is, do we share the same father or is this all a strange cosmic coincidence? But I know for a _fact_ there are no coincidences. So I ask you again: is there a chance your father is not your father?"

"Does that matter?" Matt suddenly snapped at him. He was shaking, not in fear this time. He was angry, frustrated beyond belief. Earlier today he was having lunch with Cinnamon, giggling over stupid stuff, and now he was here, being interrogated over something he barely understood. "Family is what you make of it. It's not defined by blood!"

Kylo Ren huffed. He continued to fiddle with his data pad. "Many monarchs would disagree with you on that. Battles have been fought and won due to the necessity of blood relation. I wouldn't treat it lightly."

"Look at that," he said, turning the data pad around, showing the screen. On it was Matt's employee file. "You're only a few months older than I am."

Matt had enough. "I'm leaving," he said, getting up from the bed.

He barely took two steps forward when Kylo Ren suddenly pointed at him. "SIT."

It would've been ridiculous, the way he commanded Matt as if he were a dog. Except at that moment, a sudden, heavy weight fell upon Matt's back, buckling his knees, forcing him down. He slammed against the bed, the force of it rattling his jaw. Kylo ren lowered his arm, but the weight stayed, keeping Matt from moving.

"Be patient," said Kylo Ren. "Your results will be in soon."

Matt could barely lift his head. "M-m-my results?"

"Yes, now-" The data pad made a notification noise. "Ah. There, right on time. Now..."

Kylo Ren tapped the screen, reading the message. "Huh," he said. "We do not share DNA."

"Well, I could've told you that!" Matt spat out. "Wait, when did you take a blood sample?"

"Your bleeding nose gave us enough. Still doesn't answer the question why you look like me."

Matt was older than him and yet _he's_ the one who looked like Kylo Ren? This was all insane. He wanted to be back in the lower levels, he wanted to see the familiar faces of his coworkers, even though he never talked to them outside of work. He'll even take getting yelled at by his superiors if it meant he got to leave this ugly room and the presence of this... stranger.

"You're free to go."

And like that, the invisible weight that was holding Matt disappeared. He gasped, and nearly toppled over. "W-what? Seriously? That's it?"

Kylo Ren raised an eyebrow. "Do you want to stay?"

"No."

"Then go. There's a lift at the end of the hall that'll take you back to the lower levels."

Matt nodded. On shaky legs he made his way to the door, only stopping for a brief moment to hear Kylo Ren add on, "Don't speak of this to anyone. If you do, I will find out."


	5. Chapter 5

Matt spent the next few days avoiding everyone.

He took his necessary work calls, but never stayed longer than he had to. He avoided sitting with others at the cafeteria, barely said more than a few words towards people who were friendly towards him, and even stopped reading messages from Cinnamon. After he ignored her fourth message, she stopped trying to contact him.

He was sure he would be relieved by this, it was one less person to worry about, but it only made him more depressed.

After nearly two weeks of feeling useless, he decided to put in a transfer. He didn't care where he'd go, or even if he was sent home. He needed to be off this base, away from General Hux and the infamous Kylo Ren.

Transfers took time to be processed and approved. That was fine, Matt was willing to be patient. Though he was not a fan of filling out this stupid application. It was ten pages long, asking numerous, unecessary, dumb questions on the why, where, and when. For example, the sixtieth question asked if his reason for transferring was due to abnormal bowel movements.

Despite the long process, there was a sense of satisfaction when he was finally done. He was moving forward, trying new things. It felt good. With a small sigh, Matt pressed ENTER on his transfer application.

He was immediately denied.

Matt swallowed. Maybe it was a glitch. Yeah. No problem. He refreshed the page and pain-stakingly filled out all the information again.

He was denied the second time.

Matt didn't want to panic, not yet. There was probably a reasonable explanation why this was happening. Abadoning his datapad, Matt went to the base's local servers and tried to fill out his application there.

He barely started typing out his name when an message suddenly popped on his screen.

_Stop it._

That's all it said. It wasn't signed and the address it was sent from was coded.

Startled, Matt jumped up from his seat, knocking it back to the floor. The loud noise caught the attention of everyone in the room and they paused in their writing to look at him.

Matt didn't notice them. He stared at the two words on the screen. His heart pounded in his ears, tuning out the world around him.

His hands curled into fists.

"How dare he?" He murmured to himself. "How..."

He didn't think. Matt pushed past the worker who came to tell him to pick up his chair, nearly knocking him to the ground, and stalked out. For the first time in a long time he was furious.

He did nothing to deserve this. So what if he looked like Kylo-fucking-Ren? No matter what he said, this was coincidence. There was over eighty billion humans in the universe. At some point people were going to run out of unique, distinguishable faces. It's not Matt's fault he was born with the same stupid big nose, big lips and moles. Why was he being punished for this? It's fucking bullshit.

He was on the upper levels before he knew it. Once or twice someone asked him to stop, to show his identification badge, and he ignored them. One guy had the nerve to actually reach out and grabbed him by the arm. Matt snapped his head towards him and snarled, "GET. OFF."

The man let go and stumbled back as if he were physically shoved. Matt paid no heed why this was, and continued walking to Kylo Ren's room.

He should have been barred from this part of the ship. Doors should've refused him entry, droids should have reported in and sent stromtroopers to stop him, but nothing did. By now, the personnel who were allowed on this level were absent from this part of the ship. He was alone now. Not even cleaning droids were around.

The sudden quiet was suddenly very obvious and Matt slowed in his steps. His confidence wavered, then flickered out like a dying flame.

What the hell was he doing? Exactly what did he plan to do, go up to that monster who held the power to move chairs with his mind and- what? Tell him off?

A voice called out from behind, "What the hell are you doing here?"

Matt twisted around. General Hux was coming up to him, his lip curled into a snarl. "You are not authorized to be here, go back downstairs."

"I need to speak to Kylo Ren."

"Are you deaf?" The General stepped forward threatening. "I said, go back downstairs."

"Not before I speak to Kylo Ren."

"I will have you deported-"

"Good! That's what I want! Deport me!"

The General certainly wasn't expecting that, and his face froze in between expressions. It only lasted a second, then he pulled back, his eyes narrowing. "What's going on?"

Should Matt tell him? Hux _was_ his boss, technically. "I put in a request for transfer, sir, and as soon as I submit it, it's automatically denied."

"A glitch," said Hux.

"That's what I thought too, sir-" he kept saying sir just in case Hux was truly on his side. "-but when I did it for the third time, on a different computer, I got this message."

Matt pulled up the message on his datapad and showed it to him.

"And what makes you think Kylo Ren has anything to do with this?" Hux asked.

"I... well, I don't have any evidence-"

"It seems to me this message is an ugly joke and your attitude toward Kylo Ren is unjustified."

Matt swallowed. After everything that's happened, it's obvious this was more than mere coincidence, but there was no way Matt could prove it. He was not going to get the help he needed. He was going to be stuck here, manipulated from afar by some supernatural force he would never understand-

"Where do you want to be transferred?" Hux suddenly asked.

Matt startled. "I... Sector fourteen, Region nine, sir."

"Hmm. Alright, I'll put in your request myself. In the meantime, do not accuse personnel of misdeed without backing evidence. I do not have time for your fits of fancy. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Your transfer should go through in about a week. Go back to your station."

As Matt walked away, he felt like he was robbed of something. Yeah, sure, he got what he wanted, but he was ready for a fight. He wanted to face Kylo Ren, he wanted to tell that dark son of a bitch to fuck off.

He knew Kylo Ren could easily kill him with a single hit. Still though.


	6. Chapter 6

Though Matt had lived on Starkiller base for the past three years, he was surprised how easy it was to leave. All of the employees were taught to live lightly, to have little or no personal items with them. Beyond a couple of photographs and maybe a few gifts his mother sent him for Life Day, Matt had nothing much to his name. His clothes and his hygiene items were all standard issued and he would get more at his next job.

Matt said his goodbyes to some of his fellow coworkers. He was surprised by how emotional some of them got, telling him how much they were going to miss him. It was nice to know, even if a little late.

As Matt waited by the hanger for his ride to finish fueling, someone tapped his shoulder from behind. It was Cinnamon.

It felt like someone kicked him in the stomach. Matt had been ignoring her for the past few weeks and now here she was, face to face, and he had noplace to hide. He was surprised his nose didn't start gushing at this point.

"Hey," Cinnamon said, shuffling her feet. "I'm just here to see you off."

"Um. Thank you. You don't have to."

"I want to. We're friends."

Oh, that statement made Matt feel even worse. He wanted to tell her everything, to explain what happened, but Kylo Ren's threat loomed over his head. That was not a man to call his bluffs.

Cinnamon sighed. "Look, Matt, I know things been different since you were called up to the top level. You're not the first worker to come back... shell shocked."

Matt stiffened.

"So I understand why you kept your distance," Cinnamon continued. "You don't have to tell me what happened. But... uh... do you want to exchange contact info? I'd like to keep in touch."

Matt could've cried. Romantic interests were out the window at this point, but the fact this wonderful human being actually wanted to stay friends was enough for him. Matt needed to leave this place. Unlike his non-existant luggage, Matt didn't know how much he was leaving behind. "Yes, I would like that."

Once they finished exchanging numbers, the ship announced it was time to board.

"You have a good flight, Matt," said Cinnamon. "Write to me when you can."

She turned away.

Suddenly Matt felt panicked. He didn't want her to leave, not until he told her how he felt. He needed to tell some truth, even if in the long run it didn't mean anything. Matt grasped her wrist.

" _You need to get off this base,_ " he said.

Matt choked at the end. He didn't know why he said that.

"What?" Cinnamon said. She pulled her arm away.

"Get off this base as soon as you can," Matt continued in the same urgency. Behind him, the ship was giving its last call for boarding. "Transfer, fake an illness or something, but get off this base."

"Matt, why-?"

"It's just... a feeling. Please, Cinnamon. Get off this base."

"Tell me why, Matt. A gut feeling isn't enough."

A gut feeling was all he had. Matt could only shake his head, unable to say anything else.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cinnamon didn't stick around to see the ship fly off. Matt wondered if he scared her. Hell, he scared himself. What the hell was he talking about? The base was impenetrable, perfectly protected. Why should he be worried?

Yet he was. Maybe this was an after-affect of Kylo Ren's influence, maybe it was just nerves. As the ship readied itself to jump into hyperspace, Matt couldn't shake off the feeling that every single person on this base was doomed.


End file.
